Ma Serannas
by Quak-Quak-Iagos
Summary: After so many successful missions, the Inquisitor receives a missive with terrible news and turns to Commander Cullen for help. One-shot.


"Do you have a moment, Commander?" Her voice is almost drowned out by the merrymaking of their comrades, but Cullen turns to face her. The Inquisitor stands behind him, a still moment in the rippling ocean of the Skyhold's tavern. She is small and lithe, one of the few elves in the place, but her reputation makes everyone leave a wide berth around her. Always calm and quiet, she gently bites her lower lip, eyes slightly wide as Cullen finds her.

"What do you need, Inquisitor?" His hand instinctively comes up to rest on the back of his neck, his elbow barely missing Cassandra's head by inches. His fingers itch the back of his head to keep him from grabbing of the Inquisitor's shoulder and pulling her close. Even amidst the noise and commotion, he is enthralled by the ever-present scent of pine needles and elfroot around her. He wants nothing more than to disappear with her, to get away from this busy place.

She opens her mouth before quickly closing it, a small frown replacing her normally placid appearance. Another moment and her brows furrow.

"It's nothing. I'm sorry for interrupting, Commander." She turns on heel and strides out, her hands in fists at her sides, a piece of paper crumpled in her right fist. Her shoulders are raised, and her normally fluid strides remind him of new Templars not used to drills, heavy and irregular. He sighs and turns back to the bar before feeling a few gazes on him. Cassandra turns back to her drink as he gives her a side glance. A cold feeling on his right makes him turn before hearing Cole's light voice.

"It is cold and I am alone again. Always alone. Always moving. Waiting in a tree for the shems to pass as I see the aravels move. My toes are frozen, but I'm colder. I will never see them again. All alone. Oh gods." Cole's gaze is distant, but fixed on the door as the Inquisitor shuts it, disappearing into the night. Cullen's fingers are tight on the edge of the bar as he realizes Cole is listening to her thoughts, or whatever it is the spirit does.

"Cole, is that the Inqui-" He starts, but Cole steps closer, whispering.

"I wish they would call me by my name. I was always the Hunter, now the Inquisitor. Never myself. It makes them easier to lose me. Now I will never hear their voices. _Andaran atish'an. Dareth shiral._ Alone." Cole's eyes focus again on Cullen, a deep frown and tears in his eyes. "She needs you."

Cullen is on his feet before Cole is even finished. A few strides and he is out the door, leaving a puzzled Cassandra and Iron Bull watching him depart. Cole shakes his head when Cassandra presses him.

* * *

><p>She is pressed against a tree in the garden, swallowing her sobs as she hears footsteps. She summons the darkness around her, fingers tearing in the bark as she climbs, a shadow in the boughs. She is grateful for the arbor in the middle of Skyhold. The humans and dwarves might like all the stone and cold, but she could only feel comfortable in the fields and trees. The leaves whisper around her as she settles into a small branch.<p>

Cullen slows as he enters the courtyard, nodding to the few guards left at this hour. They take a moment before leaving. He sighs and looks up, the full moon lighting the garden as if early morning. He might not know the Inquisitor very well, but he knows that her fervored pacings always bring her here. He slowly circles the courtyard, trying to pinpoint where she is. A few moments into his patrol, his foot crunches on something dry and crumpled. He picks it up and sits at one of the benches. Even in the moonlight, the tear-stains and fingerprints are apparent.

'_Sorry to inform-All slain-Elves-the Nobles-'_ The missive is small and nearly destroyed from folding and worry. There is no date, but Cullen remembers a worried scout stumbling into the keep earlier that day. He reads what little there is again and swallows back a cry. She had come to him…

She looks down on the golden locks beneath her, realizing why Varric calls him Curly. She had thought of no one else to go to. Solas obviously did not view things the way her people did, and Sera was not, as she put it, 'elfy'. Even in her panic, Cullen had been the first she had thought of, needing his strong presence. Josephine and Leliana would give her comfort, but she didn't need comfort. She was breaking like a rift, everything spilling out of her with the threat of destroying her. She needed a splint, something to hold her together, to give her purpose. She needed to not be in command.

Her thoughts running wild, she barely noticed as Cullen rose and looked up. Even as just a shadow, he could feel her perched there. He folded the notice and placed it on the bench.

"Whenever you're ready to talk, you have my attention, Alybryn." She watches in shock as he waits a moment longer before leaving, heading towards his room. She wasn't aware he had known her name. For so long, everyone called her Inquisitor, Lavellan, or Knife-Ear. She watches him leave before climbing back down. She is startled as Cole appears beside her.

"Cole! What are you doing here?" She sniffles, wiping her worries back for a moment.

"You are sad. I…" His head tilts as he studies her for a moment longer. "I cannot help." They are silent for a minute before his whispers start again. "It is always so cold here. He wants to help. Go to him. The lyrium… It hurts him." Her mouth gapes open before turning her face stern again.

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't do that, Cole." He shakes his head and turns to leave.

"I couldn't help it."

She watches him leave before turning her gaze to Cullen's study, watching a candle flicker to life in the window.

* * *

><p>He begins to unbuckle his armor, placing it methodically on the dummy before beginning to clean the metal, a practiced action that helps calm him. Even as the Lyrium nightmares begin to tease his waking mind, the action turns his memories to happier times, being newly enlisted with the Templars and being punished to clean the whole armory. Below him, he hears the door creak open slightly and close. He turns his back to the ladder, his hands moving to the leather pieces. The oiled leather creaks while his hands massage an oil into the creases. The sound of light footsteps approach him and he can almost feel a hand ghosting above his shoulder before the chair behind him creaks.<p>

She perches in the chair, one knee pulled up to her chest. Something about watching Cullen work makes her calm, the smell of horses and leather lulling her into a sense of comfort. A few minutes of silence is interrupted by Cullen humming, just slightly too loud for himself. She isn't familiar of the tune but his rumbling bass lets her worries drop for a few minutes, her head falling to her shoulder. Her eyes flutter close as he finishes with his armor, finally turning to see her.

She is like a small child, curled up and finally sleeping. He doesn't want to wake her, but he knows from endless nights of reading that the chair is not comfortable. In a gentle motion, he lifts her and maneuvers her to his bed, watching as she curls up atop the sheets. He moves down, unlacing her knee-high boots and sliding them off. He is surprised as he sees the tattoos from her face follow down to her toes, a delicate filigree crossing her tanned skin. He stores her boots on the chair before taking his cloak off, laying it over his armor and returning to her.

She watches him, green eyes bright as he returns. His face is gentle and reassuring as he lifts the sheet from the end of the bed, lifting it over her and tucking it in around her. She listens as he walks around the bed, making it creak as climbs in next to her, leaving enough room to call respectable. The silence is accented by the crackling candle as it burns down. A few more minutes pass before Cullen clears his throat.

"I… I can't imagine…" The words barely break his lips before she turns and crumbles into him. Her cries are soft at first, shoulders shivering as she buries her face into the crook between his chest and the pillow. His arm hovers around her before pulling her close. She is muscle and bone and sorrow incarnate. Her sobs grow, gasping for air. She is drowning in her sadness. Her body presses against the solid wall of Cullen.

He watches her collapse against him, watching her lips form words he cannot hear. He pulls her close and can feel the shivers run through her body. She pulls herself up so the top of her head meets his chin, her lips pressing chaste kisses to his chest. Her arms wrap tightly around his chest as her sobs increase.

"_Find me, still searching, for someone to lead me,_" His deep voice makes his chest rumble against her lips, singing quietly as he brushes her hair with his calloused hands. Her cries quiet to sniffles as she presses an ear to his chest, listening to him sing. "_Can you guide me to the revolt inside me_."

He sings until her cries have quieted and his throat aches. They stay curled up until the sun rises just over the mountains' peaks, neither sleeping. She sits up, stretching and looking at him, a smile softening her face. He smiles back gently, clearing his throat before joining.

"So… how do you say 'thank you'?" She tilts her head, questioning him before answering, her voice hoarse and soft.

"_Ma serannas_," She smiles, watching him roll the words around before attempting to say it himself.

"Mas seranas?" She giggles and he is surprised. She brushes her hair behind her ear and moves closer to him.

"Close enough, _emma lath_."


End file.
